Peter M. Gordon

YOU CAN'T QUARANTINE CRIME

When the Universe closes one door
a window opens somewhere a thief
can enter. Since the coronavirus came

my home phone rings every hour
with offers from fund raisers to donate
to victims and veterans, extend car

warranty before it’s too late, and,
ominously, speak to an officer before
my social and bank accounts are shut.

Peddlers of miracle cures swarm,
touting benefits of medicine meant for other
diseases, or their drink of silver solution,

snake oil, pressed juice, vitamins, steroids.
Gun sales escalate—so many ripe targets
in rich homes and poor to defend, so many

police on the sick list. One thing's sure:
grifters, grafters, and thugs will find marks.
I suspect it’s always been that way.


Peter reads "You Can't Quarantine Crime":



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Peter confesses: "I'm working from home here in Florida and have had time to field all sorts of class from scammers and contemplate the perilous world we find ourselves in"

PETER M. GORDON won the 2019 Thomas Burnett Swann Poetry Prize. He's published several poems at The Five-Two, along with two collections: Two Car Garage and Let's Play Two: Poems About Baseball. He enjoys watching film noir.